


Bad Case Of Lovin' You

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Star Trek Incandescent Hearts [39]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Cuddling, Developing Relationship, First Time, Kissing, M/M, Morning After, Morning Cuddles, Morning Kisses, Morning Sex, Mutual Pining, Pining McCoy, Pining Spock, Singing, song related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-07-28 22:38:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16251221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: The morning after THE night before, and McCoy is delighted in hearing Spock singing a love song to him.Appeared in Spiced Peaches LIV.





	Bad Case Of Lovin' You

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by "Bad Case of Loving You (Doctor Doctor) as sung by Robert Palmer. Further inspired by an AO3 fic in which Sherlock Holmes sings "Nobody Does It Better" to John Watson.

It was so comfortable, just lying in bed, half-asleep, groggy and heavy still from a deep, refreshing slumber, about to go to sleep again, despite a jarring of the bed a moment ago as if someone had risen from it. But that was foolish. Leonard McCoy slept alone. But it had been, oh, so-o-o nice for a moment there thinking that someone had been recently holding him, then had kissed his shoulder and had left him with an unspoken promise of returning soon, a promise that had certainly seemed legitimate at the time that it was spoken, but was really quite impossible ever to have happened--

“Doctor, Doctor, gimme the news--”

McCoy shifted his head on the pillow, opened his eyes, and frowned.

What the hell?!

Was that Spock? 

Singing?!

How was that even possible?!

What the hell was Spock doing in his quarters?! McCoy wondered. And singing?!

He looked around at the exotic furnishings on the walls of the bedroom and realized something. Something vital. Something unbelievable. Something stunning.

These weren't his quarters! Nowhere close to being his quarters! Not with all those primitive statues and war weapons scattered everywhere, as if the room was part of a temple or an arsenal, instead of being a bedchamber.

Oh, Holy Hell! These were Spock's quarters!

Then that realization begged for yet another answer.

What the hell was he doing in Spock’s quarters?!

Then he realized just WHERE he was in Spock's quarters.

The bed.

The bed?!

Spock's bed?!

What the hell was he doing in Spock’s bed?!

“I got a bad case of lovin’ you,” Spock’s singing rang out again. It sounded as if the words were accompanied by clinking, as if dishes were being moved around.

It was a love song. Spock was singing a love song. Wasn't that the grandest thing in the world?!

And suddenly nothing else was important to McCoy anymore except listening to that song. He relaxed.

Yup. It was Spock. And he was singing, alright. And dropping final 'gs.' And blending words together, such as 'give me' into 'gimme.' Spock didn't drop final 'gs' and blend words together. That was probably more shocking than the singing or McCoy’s whereabouts, even if the song lyrics had been written that way. Next, McCoy supposed that Spock would throw all caution to the wind and start using contractions. Then if he started understanding idioms, all would be lost. Generally the fastidious Vulcan was very precise with his diction.

Who would’ve ever figured that Spock could sing? And sing well? Well, he wasn’t good enough to ‘sing for his supper,’ McCoy decided, but he was certainly making one listener very happy.

In fact, McCoy now remembered, he had every reason to be gloriously happy. Partly, it was because he knew that the singer was referring to him. And that made him shiver with that happy knowledge.

He couldn’t stop himself from grinning as he stretched leisurely. But that action made him wince slightly as a soreness registered in his nether regions. With that residual pain, the other reason for his happiness came thundering back to McCoy. He remembered the reason why he was waking up in Spock’s bed. And it was more than that had been the place where he had gone to sleep.

It was the activities they had engaged in before they had gone to sleep.

What they had done! 

What they hadn't done! Last night! All night! In this bed!

McCoy flushed a deep red with the memories of their nocturnal exercises. How naughty they had been!

How glorious it had all been!

Man, he hurt! But his various aches and pains were definitely the good kind of hurt, though, he decided.

“No pill’s gonna cure my ill!” Spock declared instead of singing. His voice sounded much closer. And that made McCoy shiver, too.

Quickly, he smothered his happy grin with an impersonal smile as Spock appeared with two cups of something steaming in his hands. He paused and shot a relaxed smile at McCoy. But that compared little to the warmth in his dark eyes as he took in the sight of a rumpled McCoy in his bed. Spock’s appreciation for what he was viewing was quite evident on his face.

And it made McCoy feel so delicious and desirable to be regarded by eyes which looked at him like that he was the most precious of objects, the most desired of persons, the most beloved of all who had ever lived.

And it was all because of what they had done last night, in this bed, together.

But whatever McCoy was feeling was nothing compared to the look of awe and wonder and worship coming from Spock. There was something almost childlike reflected on that dark face, as if all the things that he had ever wished for had suddenly come true. And McCoy was the one who had brought all of this happiness to Spock. It was almost more than McCoy could accept. But yet, there it was for McCoy to see: the wonder and downright veneration on Spock’s face.

We should have done this months ago, McCoy thought as he noted the obvious changes that had been wrought in Spock overnight. McCoy had never seen such caring and tenderness on the Vulcan’s generally rigid face. He seemed HAPPY.

“I got a bad case of lovin’ you!” Spock finished, deliberately off-key.

“Oh. Ouch! That’s terrible singing! You did better before I could see you!” McCoy complained, trying hard to keep his lips from curling into a joyful grin.

“Oh, I did, did I?” Spock placed the cups with their hot contents (tea, McCoy could see) on the bedside table and settled on the edge of the bed himself. Then he just sat there and stared at McCoy with a placid, knowing smile on his face.

McCoy gave him a soft, secret half-smile back. Finally, he whispered, "Hi."

"Hi, yourself," Spock whispered back, enjoying the use of the slang as much as the situation he was now in. His tight-lipped smile broadened, and something inside him just seemed to melt into relaxation. He leaned forward, braced an arm on either side of McCoy's reclining body, and gently gave him a ‘good morning’ kiss. His lips were dry and soft and warm with all the feeling deep inside him.

How else could McCoy respond but with his own chaste kiss back? It was as pure as a mother’s blessing.

Spock settled back and continued to study McCoy with his half-pleased, half-quizzical smile. 

“What’s the matter, darlin?’” McCoy asked at last.

“The marvel of you.”

“It's just little ol’ me,” McCoy murmured. “Nothing special.” He was pleased, despite what he said. He could see the admiration and almost worship on Spock's face.

“The marvel of you being in my bed.”

“Well, now, you’ve got a point there. I’m a little surprised to find myself here myself.”

“How many times I have wished it to happen. And now it has.”

McCoy frowned. “Really? You did? Why didn’t you say something?”

“You seemed to want to be anywhere but in my company, let alone my bed.”

McCoy hooked an arm around Spock’s neck and pulled him down closer. “Well, I need to be correcting that misconception right now, shouldn’t I? And maybe I should've spoken up myself.”

"Really? You had a secret love for me, too?" Spock was amazed by that possibility.

"Yeah, but no more," McCoy murmured. "It's gonna be out so anybody with eyes can see it." He leaned up for a kiss, and that was the only encouragement that Spock needed. He eagerly bent to met McCoy’s lips.

That kiss wasn’t as chaste as the first. Or as motherly.

McCoy gave him a warm look. "Why don't you come down here and join me in bed? There's worlds of room, especially if we cuddle the way I want, and I'd love having you next to me."

That's all the further encouragement that Spock needed. He eagerly rooted under the covers and found a good spot to curl up next to McCoy with their arms entwined.

"Well, you're here now. What are you going to do about it?" McCoy challenged.

Spock's lips seemed more than willing to answer any of McCoy's needs.

Their eager kisses became more and more urgent as their hands began to wonder over now familiar bodies.

“Our cups of tea are waiting,” Spock reminded him at one point.

“Not interested,” McCoy mumbled as he ran his tongue across Spock’s neck.

Spock gulped and fought to concentrate on what he wanted to say. “But the tea is cooling.”

“Just so you don’t.” McCoy brought his opened mouth down hard on Spock’s lips, and Spock forgot all about tea, whatever its temperature.

Spock felt McCoy groping for him. “Please do not stimulate me too much. We can do nothing else until you are healed inside.”

“Stop being logical.” McCoy was lost in his exploration of Spock’s chest with his mouth as his hands were busy with Spock’s awakened nether regions. “I want some morning action outa you.”

“Maybe you are not concerned about that area of you, but I am,” Spock insisted.

McCoy pulled back. “You just wanna have your fun unimpeded by a disadvantaged partner.”

“Can you blame me, Doctor?” Misery was on his face. “I plunged into a well of molten fire last night. That fire consumed me. I cannot put out the flames you have started inside me. Nor do I wish to extinguish them. Not now, not ever. But I will not injure you, if you are hurting.”

McCoy smiled. “Yeah, I hurt. I’ll admit it. Those muscles are sore. But stretching muscles is a surefire way of making them feel better, too. Besides, I kinda liked that poker of yours stirring up the flames inside me. You made me kinda hot, Vulcan. Ain’t nothing wrong with doing it again. I can take the heat, if you can.”

Spock wanted to believe McCoy’s reassurances himself, but he wanted McCoy to be absolutely certain. He snuggled closer to McCoy.

“This is nice,” McCoy murmured as he enjoyed the feel of Spock’s lips on his shoulder. “Sing me more of your song.”

Spock looked up. “You want to hear the song? Now?”

“You were eager to let me hear the chorus. Sing me some of the words that you think would be pertinent to right now.” McCoy was being such a tease and an ass. He knew the words to the song perfectly well. Now if only Spock would sing the words that McCoy wanted to hear right now.

And damn if he didn’t!

“I know you like it, when I am on top,” Spock sang, changing the words to fit his current need.

“Silly! Those aren’t the words!” McCoy protested.

“They are now,” Spock murmured. “And they should be yours, also.”

Spock had faith in him, so he couldn’t disappoint. “Tell me darlin, that you ain’t gonna stop,” McCoy answered with his own butchered words to the song.

Spock grinned. “Leonard! You are a singer, also!”

“There ain’t nothing I can’t do in your arms. You inspire me so much. Now, don’t go making a liar outa me. Help me prove that you send me to heights that I’ve never reached before.”

“Gladly, Doctor. It will be my pleasure.” He spooned McCoy and pulled his arms around him. “‘I got it bad, and I got it good,’” he sang into McCoy’s ear, quoting another line of the song.

McCoy squirmed his bottom against Spock’s groin, and Spock gritted his teeth. McCoy knew just exactly what he was doing, the little minx. “Bet you can’t get through another chorus.”

“Doctor, Doctor, gimme the news,” Spock gamely started.

McCoy wiggled his butt again, and Spock drew his breath in raggedly.

“I got a bad case of, of, of lovin'... you….,” he managed to choke out as he felt McCoy’s hand fumbling with him.

“No pill’s gonna… gonna….” He couldn’t take it any longer. No one should be subjected to such exquisite torture. Not even a Vulcan was this strong. 

Spock’s mouth dove for McCoy's exposed neck, and McCoy chuckled lowly.

This was one bet that Spock was not going to mind losing. 

Not at all. 

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own anything of Star Trek, its characters, and/or its story lines.


End file.
